As I’ve written before, reconciliation and justice work is not for the faint of heart. Those who labor for a more equitable church and society that honors the image of God in diverse people know this truth all too well. They also know the frustration of hope deferred and the pain of being on the receiving end of racism, sexism and other forms of oppression.

I’m writing this post especially to those who identify as members of historically oppressed groups (e.g., non-white, non-male, non-able-bodied, non-middle class or higher, non-heterosexual, etc.). These are the ones who feel the brunt of oppression in the midst of their reconciliation work: being ignored by majority-members in power, feeling social isolated as one of a few minority group members working for change, coping with the perhaps-unintentional-but-definitely-hurtful cross-cultural missteps of majority group members who are clumsily and slowly learning how to act justly in cross-cultural situations, being silenced when you dare to speak out in a way that challenges the status quo or makes the majority group feel uncomfortable, feeling like you can’t be your authentic self because to do so would compromise the small amount of influence that you do have. The list goes on.

I think that internalized oppression is one of the saddest things in the world as well as one of the great victories of our Enemy. It takes many forms, but one form that I often encounter among reconciliation workers is this: the oppressed person, painfully afflicted by the injustice (perpetrated by both individuals and institutions) surrounding him or her, becomes bitter, loses sight of the ever-present and ever-working God, and ultimately loses hope. This can happen so easily and it can happen subtly. Before we know it, sarcasm has taken root in our hearts and conversations, we’re still clinging to unforgiveness that we should have relinquished months ago, and we have stopped taking hopeful risks in our reconciliation work because we no longer truly believe that God can bring hope and healing to this broken world. Those of us who desire to preserve our hopeful hearts must guard against this form of internalized oppression.

Here are some tips on guarding your heart against oppression that I’ve picked up along the way:

Meditate on the positive attributes of God, not the negative attributes of the oppressor. It’s so easy to meditate on how racist or sexist or ignorant or entitled your oppressor is. And perhaps those meditations are true – but they aren’t edifying. Instead, briefly acknowledge the dark reality of the situation (and how the oppressor plays a role in it) and then frame it in the glorious reality of who God is by focusing on God’s goodness, righteous power, etc. Sometimes, I do this by singing a simple hymn like “Holy, Holy, Holy” over and over and over.

Pray for your oppressors (Matt 5:44). One of my mentors is about 25 years older than me and has dealt with more oppression than most people I know. He’s maintained a soft and hopeful heart by spending significant time (at times, up to 2 hours/day) praying for his oppressors by name and asking God to bless them and their families. This is hardcore. I try to do this as much as I can and I can testify that it definitely works. It’s hard to hate someone for whom you’ve earnestly been praying.

Pray the sad psalms (e.g., Psalm 38, 42, 64, 80, and 88) and let God know how you’re really feeling. God’s probably the only one who can bear the full weight of your frustrations. Let him have it and then ask him to give you peace and hope.

Prioritize time with people who do value and respect you. My friends Le Que and Cristin understand and value who I am as a woman of color, “get” my heart for reconciliation, and can relate to the highs and lows of reconciliation work. It’s important for me to spend time with them because in both subtle and blatant ways, God uses their presence in my life to heal my heart. Plus, they are awesome women!

Use oppression as an opportunity to remind yourself of the truth about who you are. Often times, the words and behaviors of oppressors communicate to you that you are unimportant, not wanted, marginalized, stupid, crazy, damaged or worse. This is a good time for you return to the Scriptures to seek out the truth: that you’re Invaluable, Sought After, a powerful Co-heir with Christ, Wise, Redeemed, and Loved.

Check your self-righteousness level and repent as needed. I once read, “Bitterness…is self-righteousness. At its root, bitterness says,‘You hurt me. I would never do that. I’m better than you.’”[i] Ever since I read this, I’ve looked for self-righteousness whenever bitterness creeps into my heart. Sure enough, I inevitably find it and I need to talk to God about it and repent.[ii]

Take a break. Reconcilers are often headstrong gluttons-for-punishment who wouldn’t even consider “quitting.” In many ways, these stubborn qualities enable us to endure tough times that would send other people packing. But sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for both yourself and your community is to take a break from this challenging work. From 2008-2010, I experienced a steady onslaught of oppression from the individuals and institution with which I was involved. At the end of that time, I chose to take 6 months off from thinking, speaking, or writing about reconciliation in order to regroup, refocus and allow God to repair my broken heart. This was necessary and I came back stronger!

If you have any other trusty tips to add, please do so!

Keep hope alive, y’all.

[i] From an anonymous article published by the wonderful Good Women Project: http://goodwomenproject.com/friendship/friendship-she-took-everything

[ii] For those who are interested in theology, Volf’s book Exclusion & Embrace talks a lot about the repentance that oppressed people need to do in order for true reconciliation to occur. It’s paradigm-shifting. You should read it.

Like this:

Related

Connect with me!

13 Responses

This is a very timely and helpful post. I’ve had to ‘take a break’ in some ways, and leave the church that I love. No matter how many supportive allies I had there, being the only poster-child for gay and Christian was too much pressure. It was causing me to live with more anger than I want to live with. I’ve found a new church that is wonderful in so many ways – thought-provoking, welcoming, challenging, Biblical, etc, but it is less diverse than my former church. I’m sad that my work at my old church ended in exile.

I’m sorry to hear about the recent developments with your former church, Rachel. But I understand how alienating and disempowering it is to the “only one” of any demographic group. I pray that God heals your heart and that God redeems the work that you did at your old church. Thanks for sharing.

Good stuff, Christena. I don’t know this if this is really a tip, but maybe rather a red flag: what I know of God is that he genuinely wants us to want good things for everyone around us, including those who hurt us. If I find myself in a position where I want someone to ‘be punished for what they’ve done’ or ‘be brought into the light’ (aka public humiliation) I know that something in my heart has turned in the wrong direction.

Wanting good things for the difficult people in your life – which may sometimes mean that they are no longer allowed to continue with their destructive behavior, but in way that actualy benefits them – is hard. And if you truly examine your heart you can tell the difference between wanting them to be parented lovingly or be punished harshly.

It is a necessary posture if you want to enjoy a life full of good things for yourself.

Wait, one more: I had a meaningful exchange with God at one point in my life where I suddenly realized that the injustice that I experience was ‘part of the plan’. You may disagree, but it was as though I finally recognized that the unfair world we live in was not some blip in time where God overlooked the creation of the unvierse, but rather that he designed it specifically the way it is, almost as a test to each creature’s capacity. And how much sweeter the reward will be in heaven when we gave up part of ourselves to do the right thing. It’s so horribly imperfect but I’ve come to think that he really meant for it to be that way. That was huge for me. It did not in any way dimish my passion for working for ‘my cause’, but instead it just felt like a weight that I had been carrying around had been lifted. I wasn’t angry anymore.

It’s a long story that involves a boss that I did not expect sticking up for me in a meaningful way. But I realized that because doing the right thing *costs*, it means so much more. It pulled me away from an attitude of thinking “things aren’t fair yet, so clearly we’re not trying hard enough”. It pulled me away from thinking that I had to work for “results” which were always disappointing and elusive, but rather that I only had to do the tasks that God has placed in front of me. It was such a relief. It totally changed the way I played the game.

I’m not sure that I agree that injustice is “part of the plan”, but I do believe that God gives us a beautiful, empowering and humbling opportunity to partner with him to work against justice. When I think about this truth I feel both empowered (because I get to collaborate with God) but also humbled (because I know that ultimately it’s God’s power that’s making things happen). When I achieve this balance of empowerment and humility, I’m able to rest assured that in the end, God will win and injustice will be eradicated. Weight off my shoulders!

Christina, I wish you lived in St.Louis or I lived in Wisconsin (is that right? Except it’s sooooo cold…). But I have to settle for the blessing of the Internet and your blog. I am such a newbie in this work, and I can’t quite seem to figure out how to function these days. Like on the way to church, I made my husband promise me to tell me not to say anything about the trial, knowing that it would end poorly. And then someone asked me, “How are you? No, really, how are you?” And I had a moment where I thought, ” I can probably trust this person,” and I told them I was sad because of all the tweets from mourning Black folks…. And it ended poorly.

I feel like I’m doing it all wrong, and worst, I can’t trust God because the same people that told me about God are also the people who are now vehemently denying the reality of injustices in the world. And I somehow can’t reconcile that they would actually know anything if they are so in denial. I feel like I’m bleeding and I can’t stop.

Anyway, I love what you said about a break. I think it might be a good excercise.

Anyways, I’m grateful that this post was encouraging to you, Lauren. I agree that we need to surround ourselves with people who can help us learn to be godly and healthy reconcilers. I learned that I can burn out pretty easily if I don’t get mentored in the work of reconciliation and maintaining a soft heart. I pray that God leads you to some great people who can walk alongside you in this area. I encourage you to seek out this type of mentorship in St. Louis as well. Blessings!

Christina, this is JUST what I was meditating on today! I work with child soldiers and women of war in Congo.. as you can imagine the stories I hear are horrific and it is so easy to pick up the offense and carry it against those who I don’t feel are doing enough, or anything in their power to stop this. In keeping this offence though, I don’t walk in love.. and the ONLY thing that can conquer the injustice and evil is to walk in His perfect love.

Thank you for this post, and so many that you have posted. Your writing holds a mirror up to my own heart and allows me to address things in myself that holds back justice!